Bureaucratic Blues
by Machina Ex Deus
Summary: Rock needs... his residency papers? The Municipal Government actually does stuff? An oneshot detailing Rock's foray into red tape. Rated T because anything Black Lagoon should be.


AN: Well, I was reading gunman's Marriage of Chaos, and a silly little thought about how the bureaucracy of Roanapur was never mentioned in the show, and would be funny to expound upon. Tell me how terrible I was, but I hope the characters were on target.

Oh yes. I don't own Black Lagoon… If I didn't say that, Revy said she'd kill me. After I got sued.

* * *

Rock was relaxing in the office. The phone hadn't ringed. Nobody had come by. No RPG's were hurtling towards the window. It was well and truly a peaceful day in Roanapur. He treasured these moments of peace, fleeting as they were. Roanapur was the kind of town that didn't like moments of peace, and as such tried to keep them away with loud bars, rampant shootings, and the occasional mob war. So when Rock couldn't hear the sound of gunfire down the block, he tended to mark it on his calendar as a day to remember.

This was one such day. Rock marked his calendar.

July 7th: Relative quiet for 13 minutes. New record, beating January's 11 minutes.

Benny had been working on the boat, muttering something about keeping up to date. Dutch was off doing… something. Dutch never really told Rock where he went, and Rock had the common sense not to ask unless he thought it important for their current job. Revy said something about drinking with Eda, and Rock knew enough to not get near them. Drinking with Revy usually ended in explosions.

So, Rock was lying down on the couch, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, when the phone began to ring. He lazily clambered up, making sure not to drop ash on his nice white shirt, and answered the phone.

"Hello, Lagoon Trading Company."

"Hello, this is Lucas from the Registrar's Office. I'm looking for a Mister Rock?"

"That's me. How can we help you today?"

"We have heard from a Ms. Balalaika that your residency papers have yet to be filed."

"Uh… Residency papers?"

"Yes sir. Ms. Balalaika was very insistent on getting this matter settled. Just because we are a den of thieves, murderers and tax evaders doesn't mean we can't have a tally of who stays here year round, and who the tourists are. Mostly, this is a formality, and usually ignored unless you attract notice from the city's major players, which the Lagoon Company has. We have your associates already on file, so we just need you to come down to the office and fill out your residency application."

Rock got down the address, and listened to the added insistences that he should stop by and fill out these forms. It was refreshing in a town in which everyone was on the wrong side of the law to see at least a shell of a bureaucracy desperately clinging to life. He hung up the phone, almost completely intent on ignoring whatever scam the man at the other end of the line was trying to pull, and went to sleep on the couch.

He was jostled awake by Dutch, who had a smile on his face. "Yo, Rock. Any calls while I was out."

"Yeah, something about me filling out residency papers, but nothing about business."

"Ah, you already heard about that? Hm. Balalaika told me to tell you to do that. I received payment for our delivery today, and she told me to mention it to you."

"I didn't think she had to deal with that sort of thing."

"Well, running any organization means managing people. The city council is made up of all the leaders of the Mafia, Triad, and all the other cartels for a reason. They're the best at managing people in this city. So yeah, she has to deal with that sort of thing."

Rock made a mental note to find out about the actual city government, and see what kind of organization they had, for future reference. Information was power in this city, and every bit helped you survive another day.

"Anyways, Revy's out with Eda, and Benny's on the boat, working. I guess I'll take care of this residency issue now, while we have time."

"Fine. We've got a delivery to make to some godforsaken island and we'll be leaving tonight, so get your paperwork done by then. Oh, and get Revy back here."

* * *

Whoever made this residency application obviously knew Roanapur enough to know what their leaders wanted to know, and made no intention of hiding it. That being said, it was the strangest application for citizenship he had ever seen. The questions went on and on, and Rock was certain that some of these things should never be admitted in public. There were normal questions, such as name, age, country of origin, and such. There were also questions like, "Have you ever received military training?" "Were you ever involved in illegal trafficking?" and "How many bodies have you dumped into the harbor?"

As it turned out, there was a $48 fine for dumping bodies into the harbor without a permit.

How anyone who lived here could possibly fill this out without admitting to every crime ever conceived, Rock would never know. Of course, Rock didn't know that most people simply lied on these applications. Then they were shot, for lying to the bureaucracy without payment in hand.

Luckily for Rock, paperwork was one of the things he was good at. His former bosses had liked throwing paperwork at him, and he actually preferred the piles of pulp that would once cover his desk because it usually meant that he wouldn't have to deal with his boss that day. So, in short order, his residency papers were filled out, I's crossed, T's dotted, and in a legible hand.

Mr. Lucas almost cried at the beautiful sight.

Rock was informed that the papers would take some time to go through the system, as they tried to hide the records in enough useless memos that it may never be found again. He was told that this was probably the last time he'd ever see this, or have to deal with this, and Rock was happy.

* * *

Revy was not happy.

Then again, her mornings didn't lend themselves to a joyful mood when you wake in a shower covered in… something she didn't want to think about at the time. It had been a while since she drank enough to black out.

Being called away from poker with Eda when she was losing wasn't helping either. Most people didn't like to give up when they were losing, but Revy was down two hundred big ones and with the crap in her hand, she could feel her wallet groan. Luckily, Rock walked in before she could raise again.

"We gotta go Revy, Dutch has a delivery."

She flung her head right into his face. "PISS OFF ROCK!"

"Bacardi? Or is that Morgan? I'm starting to get the hang of guessing. It's easier with tea. Now come on, Dutch wants us at the docks."

Eda was smiling like a cheshire cat, hiding behind her sunglasses. "Hey Rock, maybe you could send Revy here back to Dutchy, and you stay here and find the love of God?"

Rock all but visibly groaned at the leer. Revy, however, had a hand on her pistol. "Fuck off bitch…"

"Revy? Go? Now? Before you shoot someone, not after?"

"Fine… just let me sleep a bit in the car, alright?"


End file.
